I think all of us have some things in our life we’d like to do over. Mistakes I made with Jake, not knowing about his disability. How I’ve handled situations. Friendships long since over.
My list includes the time that I was a foster mom.
I have mentioned before that I never expected I’d be a foster mom, and it’s true. There was never any point when I was a teenager that I could ever envision being a mom, much less a foster mom; or at least, I could envision it, but it was so utterly far away.
So at the tender age of 21, when I fell in love with a guy 20 years older that ran a therapeutic group home for teenage boys and had his own 17 year old, I was just as shocked as everyone else. Me? Are you insane? This naive, sheltered, never-know-anything-other-than-sunshine-and-unicorns girl was suddenly “mom” to kids who had experienced the polar opposite of the spectrum of life.
At one point Hubs looked me squarely in the face and asked, “Are you sure you know what you’re getting into?”
“Of course!” I lied. I didn’t-and it was probably a good thing.
These were kids who experienced what no child should ever have to; horrific abuse, neglect, and abandonment. Some had found their parents dead. Others turned to alcohol, drugs, and gangs to find solace. There were some that developed mental illnesses, came straight out of jail, or who were so violent that I couldn’t be left alone with them. The common thread is that they all, at some point, lived in our home. Over 10 years and 80 teenagers, some were with us as long as 4 years, and others as long as 20 minutes.
Life was never, ever, normal. It was always on the edge, never knowing what could happen next, and left us with incredible, at times unbelievable, stories. Like the time that one of our kids was late for curfew and we were watching TV, only to see him on the 6′oclock news being chased by the police. Or the time when another tore apart the freezer because he swore he could hear voices. There was the fire that was started by the arsonist in the basement, the time Hubs was jumped and almost stabbed in the middle of the mall, and the phone call at 3 am because one of the kids jumped in front of a car. Drive-by shootings. The gang that appeared on our doorstep. The rapist that was placed with us when I was 9 months pregnant.
On the other hand, there was the time when we took a 15 year old shopping and it was the first time he’d ever had new clothes. His enthusiasm was so infectious we later teared up.
I remember games of Uno where we all laughed so hard that cards began flying across the table.
Proudly standing at another’s graduation ceremony.
Watching one fall asleep on the couch with tiny newborn Jake in his arms.
Sometimes upon finding out that we were foster parents, some people would heap accolades on us. I would love to sit back and enjoy them, but the truth is, I’ve never felt like I really deserve them.
I don’t feel like I deserve them because I look back now and cringe. I cringe at the naive, holier-art-thou, ignorant mom I was. Oh sure, I was young. I was SO not ready for the role. I see that, now. Seventeen years later, I can look back and see my mistakes that through time and experience, have become glaringly obvious to me.
At times I’ve wished so much that I knew then what I know NOW.
Life is a funny thing, though. These days, things have come full circle. This Mother’s Day, I’m mom to a teenager. A teenager who, at times, reminds me of some of those boys that lived with us. I see snippets of them at school in the kids that I work with and immediately, I remember the lessons they taught me.
Never judge a book by it’s cover.
Put yourself in someone else’s shoes.
Have compassion.
A warm cookie does wonders for a boy’s broken heart.
Love hard. Play hard, too.
Never give up.
Laugh when you can.
Most of all; there are no do-overs, so make it count.
©Scattered Mom 2009
WOW - thanks for sharing! Many times I let the little things get to me. This is a good reminder to look at the big picture!
Thanks!
I’m the same way. We often have people say, “Oh, just wait until Jake is a teenager.” I just smile and think about how it could be, and how grateful I am that it’s not.